Muck
by marti-n-danika
Summary: Or Jareth & Sarah's Smelly Little Problem. A collaboration between Marti Owlsten & Danika Lareyna.
1. Watch Where You Step

**Muck**

or Jareth & Sarah's Smelly Little Problem

A Collaboration Between

Marti Owlsten

&

Danika Lareyna

Chapter One

Watch Where You Step

Sarah cuddled into her bed, snuggling the blanket under her chin and burying her face in the soft, deep pillow. She had donned her favorite nightdress, the satiny one with little embroidered flowers around the neck and cuffs. A cozy zephyr tugged at the curtains, carrying the scent of trees and coming rain. She felt as if she could sleep for three days straight.

She supposed that she had earned it, after her adventure that night. Battling one's way through the nightmarish Labyrinth was exhausting. Then there was the celebration party with her new friends. It almost seemed surreal to be home and surrounded by the familiar trappings of the real world.

Downstairs, though, she could hear her father and stepmother moving about. They were likely sharing their customary post-date pot of tea. Their movements were quiet and calming. Everything about both of them seemed to be very orderly and precise. Sarah sometimes wondered how her father had ever gotten together with her mother, the pinnacle of flamboyance, in the first place.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as the darkness began to swirl around her, pulling her down into unconsciousness. Every part of her body felt heavy while her mind seemed ready to float away on the gentle breeze. Her dreams called to her and she was happy to relax into them.

Sarah's last thought before sleep claimed her was that something in her room _really_ _stunk_.

xXx

Jareth, King of the Goblins, lounged on his throne, glaring at a small spot on the floor nearby. His throne room was quiet, disturbingly so. The room was resoundingly empty of goblins and life in general, other than their ruler. In fact, the entire castle had been deserted. One would have thought that the respite would be pleasant, but Jareth found himself unable to enjoy it.

It was only through sheer force of will that the Goblin King himself remained in his castle.

Snorting with disgust, and immediately regretting it, Jareth leapt gracefully from his seat and strode over to the great window. He breathed deeply as he stared out over his kingdom, trying very hard not to look as if he was gasping in the relatively fresh air. He was not entirely sure who he was keeping up appearances for, only the random bit of litter stood mute watch over his actions; but he was a king, after all. He gazed down on the Goblin City, eyeing the filthy creatures scurrying about like a raptor watching prey. _Pathetic idiots_, he thought to himself.

Even more disgusted with his subjects than usual, he spun back to the throne room and immediately choked back a gag. He sauntered over to a spot on the floor, near the winding stairway that led into the main hall. There, corroded into the stone by an unspeakably foul liquid, was a small shoeprint. His expression darkened even more as he stared at it, his mind tallying the multitude of similar prints throughout his castle. _How had she managed to cover so much ground in such a short period of time?_ The Escher Room, in particular, was covered in them. He could not approach that area within two hallways, steely will or no.

He _could_ fix this, but it would take time and be a terrible hassle, not to mention more than a little dangerous, even for a master of magic and ruler of the Underground such as himself. He frowned, unfortunately he had come to the disturbing conclusion that it was either undertake the quest or build himself a new castle. Jareth growled at the footprint, "Well, I won't be going alone. You caused this bloody mess, you _will_ help clean it up."

His midnight cloak swirled around him as he turned and marched resolutely back towards the window. Before he had gone three steps, he disappeared in a flash of sparkling light. A feather fluttered to the floor among the lingering glitter as white wings bore him out, over his Labyrinth. He had someone to pay a call on, and it was not going to be a pleasant visit. He was off to see the ineffably foolish girl who had had the gall to track swamp muck from the Bog of Eternal Stench all over _his_ Castle Beyond the Goblin City.

xXx

Sarah held her nose as she tossed the shoes into the giant dumpster behind the grocery store. They had remained in the trash can behind their house for two days before her stepmother had insisted she move them. Garbage pickup was not for another three days and the neighbors were starting to talk. That, and all of the plants within a twenty foot radius of the trashcan had immediately wilted.

Slamming down the lid, she turned to put as much distance between herself and the foul footwear as possible. In her haste, she very nearly collided with someone's chest. Someone, she noted with a sinking feeling, who favored silky, ruffled shirts. All hope that she had merely come upon a Renaissance Faire reject were dashed by the gleam of a familiar pendant resting against his pale skin. Her gaze reluctantly traveled up to meet the mismatched eyes of the Goblin King. Fury danced within them.

Sarah quickly looked around her, but the normally bustling area was suddenly empty. She supposed that it was silly to be surprised by this, but she still felt a bit disappointed. It would have been nice to have someone within screaming distance... just in case. Those cold blue eyes made her feel awfully lonely.

Somewhat at a loss, Sarah finally said, "Erm, hey Jareth. What's up?"

He blinked once, his angrily downswept brows lifting in confusion for just a moment and his eyes darting skyward. His distraction was brief, though, as he decided to disregard her confusing query and return to the matter at hand. "You," Jareth said, getting right to the point, "Are coming with me."

Now it was Sarah's turn to frown, "Why would I do that?" Before Jareth could respond, her eyes widened, "Oh my gosh, did someone wish me away? It was my stepmother, wasn't it? Dang it, I always knew she hated me! Why I'm going to-"

Jareth, initially amused by her tirade but quickly growing bored by it, cut her off. "No one has wished you away." He turned his head, raising his nose delicately and eyeing her sideways. "I doubt I would oblige them if they did."

Sarah, disappointed at being interrupted in what was shaping up to be a first-class rant, unclenched her fists and straightened. Not for the first time, she wished she were just a bit taller and did not have to crane her neck so to meet Jareth's eyes. It was hard to be intimidating when you barely reached the object of your ire's shoulder. "Well then why are you here? Why do you want me to come with you?"

He wrinkled his nose, casting a glance at the dumpster behind her back. "Smell anything... _interesting_ lately?"

Completely taken aback by his question, Sarah's eyes darted to her feet. Her toes wiggled, snug in a brand new pair of converse sneakers; black with little blue stars, no less. She had had no end of trouble trying to explain why she needed new shoes to her father. She did not even bring up the carpet; instead she cut up the section upon which her shoes had rested overnight and placed a large stuffed animal over it, hoping no one would notice. Quickly looking away, she muttered, "So I got a little Bog on my shoes. So what?"

Jareth was a master at the art of looming menacingly, he used that skill to his full advantage now. "A little Bog on your shoes? Oh yes, you got a _little_ Bog on your _shoes_ and then you dragged your filthy feet all through _my castle!_ Do you have any idea why I take such great measures to make sure that whoever I drop into the Bog of Eternal Stench _stays there_?!"

Sarah winced and then, catching herself, straightened her spine defiantly. "Well it's not my fault! _You _dropped me into the Bog in the first place! You _created_ the Bog in the first place! You only have yourself to blame if..." She trailed off and looked up at him for a long moment.

Then she burst into fits of laughter.

His glower deepened as he watched her clutch at her sides, bending nearly double with the force of her hilarity. She, of course, paid him no heed. At last, he growled, "What, _exactly_, is so humorous?"

She wiped at the tears forming in her eyes. "You're in a snit," she gasped, between

bouts of giggles, "Because I made your castle... _stinky!_" This set her off again, practically screaming with laughter.

"Stinky," he said, in a low, menacing voice which immediately killed her mirth, "Does not begin to describe it. You have made my home, and the home of a good number of my subjects, utterly unlivable."

Sarah felt the tiniest twinge of guilt, but sternly squashed it. "Well what do you want me to do about it? It's your Bog. Can't you just..." She wiggled her fingers in a clumsy imitation of his sphere maneuvering. "'Abra Cadabra, Bog be gone' or something?"

"Abra Cadab-?" he spluttered, drawing himself up regally. "I do _not_ 'Abra Cadabra' _anything_. And, no, I cannot use my powers to remove the stench. Unfortunately I took the precaution of making it magic-resistant. I occasionally find the need to punish the overzealous sorcerer, witch or the like. Only one thing can remove the stench of the Bog of Eternal Stench."

Sarah closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. She had a distinct feeling that she had a massive headache coming on. "I am almost afraid to ask, but what removes the stench?"

Dramatically, Jareth replied, "The Soap of Infinite Cleansing."

If he was expecting a big reaction, he was drastically disappointed. Sarah snorted and said, "_Please,_ tell me you are kidding."

"I most certainly am not kidding. The Soap of Infinite Cleansing is one of the sacred treasures of the Temple of the Enchanted Unguents, in the heart of a land filled with such perils as would make my Labyrinth seem a walk in the park. It will be no easy task to retrieve enough to purify the Castle Beyond the Goblin City. You will, of course, be accompanying me on my quest to obtain it."

Sarah planted her hands on her hips, "And why, pray tell, will I be doing that?"

Jareth's eyes were icy as he clamped his hand around her forearm. "Because," he hissed, "I am not giving you a choice."

And then, they were gone.

xXx

Author's Note-

Welcome, my friends, to the... frankly rather disturbing story of Sarah, Jareth and the Soap of Infinite Cleansing. Who knows where this will end up? Certainly not me. But with writers like Marti and Danika, at least you know it will be... um... well... at least you know it will be really weird.

Let me give you a little background... See Marti and I, we talk a lot. Many is the night that we've drained our cell phones dry chatting and sharing ideas as we wrote. I doubt there is a chapter posted by either of us in the last few months that hasn't been discussed at _least_ in passing and more often written in full while we're on the phone together. I'm not sure who it was that suggested it first, but it soon became overwhelmingly obvious that we had to do a collaboration. So here you have it. We will be alternating chapters, but considering how much of this chapter came straight from Marti's head, you can consider this as close to a true collaboration as you can get considering we're 2500 miles apart.

So let us know what you think, and bear with us... it may be a bumpy ride.

-Danika


	2. Look What You've Done

**Muck**

or Jareth & Sarah's Smelly Little Problem

A Collaboration Between

Marti Owlsten

&

Danika Lareyna

Chapter Two

See What You Have Done?

"Aaarrrggghh," Sarah growled, trying to wrench herself free from Jareth's steel grip. Stupid Fae, what right did he have to man-handle her? "Let go!" she demanded.

"No," he said simply, "Before we begin, I want to you _experience_ the damage you brought upon my domain."

They had reappeared up on what seemed to be a stone wall. Sarah was momentarily distracted from the bruising fingers that still refused to let go of her arm by the familiarity of the situation. She sniffed the air and could detect the faintest hints of _bog_ on the breeze… She knew this place. This was just before the Bog of Eternal Stench, where she had given Hoggle a kiss…

"You brought me here? Why here?" she said, angrily, without thinking, "Are you going to make the floor drop out from beneath me again to send me down a demented bendy-straw into the bog?"

Jareth frowned at her, confused slightly. What was a bendy-straw? And… oh, wait a minute… did she think…? "You are mistaken, Sarah," he said, pulling her to the side of the wall, "I didn't bring you to where you attempted to share a private moment with _Higgle_, after he gallantly saved you from a few of disassembling pyromaniacs…"

Sarah involuntarily covered her nose – the smell was nearly overwhelming! Oh, if she thought the stink her shoes and bit of carpet had given off was bad, she was gravely mistaken. And, that wasn't the only thing she was mistaken about. They were not up on the wall near the bog, at all.

Instead, Sarah was horrified to see they were looking out across the Goblin city. "Where _are_ we?" she asked, her free hand still covering her nose – not that it helped any.

Jareth leaned in close to her ear, "We, dear Sarah, are atop a turret of my _castle_. This happens to be the least _stinky_ place there is, after you so graciously tromped bog through most everywhere else."

Guilt washed over Sarah as she looked out upon the city below. It was mostly, if not completely, deserted. Flashes of memories from the battle in the Goblin City flickered across her mind's eye. She'd run all over the city! And her shoes had brought the bog with her!

When the smell began to make her sick, she quickly wiggled her way around, turning her back to the city and slumping against the wall, facing Jareth's legs as he stood beside her.

"Okay, so… this infinity cleaner…" she said, breathing heavily, trying not to think about the nauseating stench.

"The Soap of Infinite Cleansing," Jareth corrected testily.

"Yeah, whatever…" she exhaled, trying to at least _adjust_ to the smell, if she couldn't escape it. Oh, sure, it wasn't as bad as when you weren't leaning over the edge, but a small breeze sent whiffs of it over the wall to torment her, all the same. "How… how do we get it? Do we need to? I mean… are you _sure_ Clorox wouldn't work?"

"_Nothing_ works," Jareth said, glaring down at her, "That is the _point_."

"Okay, okay," she said, getting to her feet, "Here's the bigger question, then: why do you need me?"

The Goblin King sneered, "Well, aren't you the one who always wanted things to be _fair_?"

Her eyes widened, "What's fair about dragging along a second person to do something that one can do just as easily?"

The look in his eyes scared her, just a little. They glinted, very dangerously. "Yes, it is my Bog," he said slowly, "And yes, I intended it to be permanent. For those reasons, I am undertaking this quest, rather than forcing someone else to do so against their will – namely, you. But," he took a step closer to her, forcing her to crane her neck upwards, "You had been given fair warning of the dangers of the Bog of Eternal Stench, and still failed to pay heed to where you stepped. I may have sent you to the bog, dear, but it is not my shoeprints that are etched all over the stones in my castle. If I have to face the consequences of my actions, then so do you. It's only _fair_."

Sarah set her jaw and stiffened, "Fine," she said, "It's the fair thing to do. But that still means you have to drag _me_ around with you. Me, the one who defeated you. You hate me, why would you willingly spend time with me, even if it is to get the stink out of this place?"

He growled in his throat and stomped to the other side of the turret. He muttered something darkly under his breath that she couldn't quite make out.

"What was that?" she asked, turning her head to the side and putting a hand behind her ear, so as to better hear what he obviously did not want to admit.

"I _said_," he snarled over his shoulder, "I cannot retrieve the Soap on my own."

"Why not?"

He clenched his fists, "_Must you always ask so many questions_?! Why I cannot retrieve the Soap is irrelevant, all that matters is that I cannot. My choices as to whom I can take are somewhat limited, and if I must choose between you and a goblin, I prefer the one that does not distract as easily," he paused and rolled his eyes, with a sigh, "It was a tough decision, but I assume that you at least understand my directions, even if you don't follow them, where the goblins do neither."

"Gee, thanks," she drawled, "I feel _so_ much better about being forced into this, then."

"Oh, you would rather leave the smell to torment the denizens of this realm, including your precious friends?" he waved his hands out to the city, to emphasize his point.

Sarah's face softened. She thought of Ludo and Hoggle… Sir Didymus wouldn't mind it at all – her mouth twitched in a small smile at the thought – but the others… Poor Hoggle! Poor Ludo! No, she couldn't leave them with the smell. As much as she didn't like the circumstances she found herself in, she couldn't run from it. She knew they would do the same for her.

Besides, she thought, Jareth was overly dramatic – that much was obvious just by observing his choice of clothes. How bad could it _really_ be?

She nodded to Jareth, "I hate to admit it, but you're right, I can't abandon my friends," she sighed and looked Jareth squarely in the eye, a small smile playing at her mouth, "Goblin King, Goblin King, despite what you might think, I'll brave this test and join your quest to help you remove the stink!"

He leveled his eyes at her, "Oh, quite the witty poet, aren't you?"

"You have no sense of humor, did you know that?"

He shook his head and held up his hands, "Enough arguing!"

"Party pooper."

"Sarah," he said slowly – for the love of the Underground! Was it even possible for this girl to hold her tongue for more than a minute? "We are wasting time," he reached his hand out to her, conjuring a crystal in his other hand as he did so. "Take my hand."

Sarah stared at him for a moment, and then at his hand. She took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and reached out to grasp his gloved hand.

His crystal burst, there was a puff of sparkles, and they vanished.

xXx

Sarah decided right then and there that she wasn't all that fond of Jareth's traveling methods. She coughed on sparkles for a long moment before she blinked and looked at their new surroundings.

They were both standing in front of some kind of entrance. To what, exactly, was unclear. An onyx black gate of enormous size set in a wall that seemed to stretch endlessly outward in both directions.

"Where are we?" Sarah asked, quietly.

"This is where we start," Jareth said, somewhat cryptically.

Sarah turned to him with a frown, "Gee, you're really helpful, aren't you? D'you think you could tell me what this is the start of, exactly?"

Without looking at Sarah, Jareth answered in an awed voice, "This is the entrance into," he paused, "The Maze."

Was he still trying to get a big reaction? Well, this time, he got one. Sarah snorted with laughter. Jareth turned to her, a very disapproving look on his face. "Must you have disrespect for everything?" he asked, irritably. Oh, this was going to be a _very_ long journey, indeed.

In between her bouts of laughter, Sarah managed to ask, "So… to rid the Labyrinth of the smell from the… the Bog of Eternal Stench… we have… we have to enter the Maze… to search for the Soap of Infinite Cleansing?" she fell over into laughter, again.

Jareth gave her a withering look, "Why is that so funny?"

Sarah took a moment to swallow and catch her breath. After clearing her throat, she faced Jareth, "You can't tell me you don't see the similarities in that."

He shook his head, "No… they are each very different, Sarah."

She shook her head, "Ah, never mind. Okay," she looked at the gate before them. "How do we get inside?" she just noticed that there were no handles on the gate.

"Well, perhaps it is a foreign concept to _you_," he approached the gate and faced her with a smirk, "But, traditionally, when one wishes to enter into some place, they _knock_." He reached up a hand and rapt quickly on the gate.

Sarah sighed. This was going to be a _very_ long adventure, for sure.

With a great boom that resonated in the air around them, the large doors of the massive gate swung open towards them.

Sarah swallowed and followed after Jareth as he proceeded to walk into the Maze. "Well," she said quietly, to herself, "Here we go… again…"

xXx

Author's Note-

Ah, hello all! Marti here, finally getting chapter two up and out for your online entertainment. Danika hit the nail right on the head when she said 'it may be a bumpy ride' – this is probably the bumpiest chapter I've written for any fic, in a very long time!

All and all, I'm sure we'll make it through this… I hope we'll make it through this…

Do tell us what you think – it isn't easy to do a collaboration like this (our poor, poor cell phones! They get such a workout!), but reviews make it a hundred times easier. The more encouragement we get, and feedback, the better and faster this story will be.

Much love,

Marti

Oh… wait… gotta throw in one of these...

**Disclaimer: We are two slightly nutty Bowie-fans, who mean no harm, and take nothing of this story, other than the plot. Um… I'll say Danika owns the Soap of Infinite Cleansing, and I own the Maze. Every thing else, we're just borrowing. **


	3. Into the Maze

**Muck**

or Jareth & Sarah's Smelly Little Problem

A Collaboration Between

Marti Owlsten

&

Danika Lareyna

Chapter Three

Into the Maze

"Erm, Sarah?" Jareth said. His tone was uncharacteristic in that it was neither arrogant nor commanding. She had been examining their surroundings. Much like Jareth's Labyrinth, this Maze started with an interminable corridor, stretching off to the left and right. Unlike Jareth's Labyrinth, this corridor was very clean and smelled faintly of lemon. The young woman turned to face him, feeling slightly nervous. What on earth (or elsewhere) could make the Goblin King sound... _nervous_?

He fidgeted, shifting from one booted foot to another. Sarah's nervousness escalated to full blown dread. "There is something I believe I should tell you," he said, refusing to meet her eyes. "A thing which will... complicate our quest."

She planted her fists on her hips. "Something you should have told me before you dragged me along in the first place, maybe?" she asked. Were she not certain that it was physically impossible for him, she could have sworn Jareth blushed.

"You see," he said, "This place, this Maze, is the balance to my Labyrinth."

Suspecting that she was in for a lesson on magical philosophy, the girl warily asked, "The balance? What the heck is that supposed to mean?"

"The Goblin Kingdom is a land of darkness, Sarah. It is the home of things which go bump in the night, a realm of shadows and nightmares."

"So then... this place is a land of light? A realm of, what? Fluffy bunnies and happy little gnome people who bake cookies all day?"

His gaze darkened, "Exactly."

"Well that doesn't sound so bad."

He drew himself up, "Perhaps not to you. That is one reason I insisted you accompany me. The taint won't affect you so strongly. For me, all of this goodness and light is like a noxious poison, slowly seeping into me and draining me of life. It twists my magic, burns my very soul. You cannot imagine the agony should I remain in this land overlong."

She rolled her eyes, "Very dramatic. You should get an Oscar for that."

"Thank you."

"So wait, if you're the King of all things wicked and creepy, how'd you end up with all the glitter?"

A smirk played on Jareth's lips, "I got dibs. And I assure you, Queen Janill was not happy about that."

"Is she the ruler of The Maze?"

"Indeed, and now she is forced to do her magic in a cloud of rainbow colored bubbles. It was either that or butterflies and Janill has a horrible fear of insects." He paused for a long moment before continuing to say, "I'm afraid the Munchkin Queen will not be best pleased with my arrival in her realm."

"The _Munchkin_ Queen?" Sarah scoffed.

"I would not take them so lightly. Munchkins can be vicious little devils when they want to." Jareth shuddered, "If any of them ever offer you a lollipop... _run_."

xXx

"So now what do we do?" Sarah asked, gazing up and down the long, lemon-fresh corridor.

Jareth shrugged, "How should I know? Despite any whimsical similarities you have concocted in that inadequate little mind of yours, this is _not_ my Labyrinth. I do not know the first thing about how to get from here to the Temple of Enchanted Unguents. _You_ are the genius who defeated The Labyrinth. You tell me." He crossed his arms and huffed.

Sarah snorted, "Fine. You want something done, you have to do it yourself." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a nickel. "Heads we go left, tails we go right. Agreed?"

He smirked at her, "And if it lands on its side?"

"If it lands on its side then I assume you're using some kind of wonky magic and I beat you over the head with your own boot, which I will be forced to liberate from you with the leg still attached. So, if you value being bipedal then..." She flipped the coin.

They went right.

xXx

"Recite the magic word!"

Twenty minutes of walking, Jareth running his fingers along the left-hand wall and Sarah the right, had brought them not to a cleverly disguised hole but a very obvious door. Upon the door was a face and Sarah was vaguely reminded of the knockers she had met in the Labyrinth. However, this face had winked at her and looked rather like Orlando Bloom. She wondered if she could convince Jareth to install one of those on her bedroom door.

When the Goblin King had attempted to open the wide door, the face had politely informed them that they could not pass through without saying the magic word. It had then waggled its eyebrows at Sarah who giggled insipidly. Jareth glared at her.

After a moment of concentration, Jareth had straightened his shoulders, thrown back his head and intoned, "Duffimuffins!" Sarah thought he was rather overdoing it, but did not say anything. She knew how he could get when his pride was at stake.

"Sorry, bloke," the door had replied, "Not the right word." It grinned at Sarah, showing off a row of perfectly straight teeth.

Jareth glowered at the door. "Bippity-Boppity-Boo?"

"Nu-uh."

"Hornswaggle?"

"Not even close."

"Cocoapuffs?"

"Now you're just making stuff up."

Rolling her eyes, Sarah laid a hand on Jareth's shoulder. She suspected that if this went on much longer the door would suddenly find a large, jagged hole where its face had been. She glanced at the facade out of the corner of her eye. That _would_ be a shame. Gently pushing him out of the way, Sarah stood before the door.

"Hello Darling," the door purred, "Do you come here often?"

Sarah smiled at it, "Is the magic word 'please'?"

"Yes indeed," the door replied. "You're a smart thing, aren't you? What do you say you loose the fashion disaster and we-"

Sarah never found out what the door suggested they do together (which was probably a good thing), because it swung open onto a scene of utter chaos.

xXx

"It's... It's... _horrifying_" Jareth stammered.

Sarah could not help but nod in mute agreement. It looked like that room in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory where everything is made of candy. Almost exactly like that room except just different enough to avoid copyright infringement. Lawyers had no place in the realm of joy and light. Everywhere one looked were tiny, chubby-cheeked, child-like creatures, which Sarah could only assume were the Munchkins. They were singing, dancing, laughing and playing tag with friendly, large-eyed forest creatures. Everything was done in pastels. Sarah thought it looked as if Easter had thrown up over the lot.

They stared in horror. It was like a really bad car accident with lots of blood and mangled limbs. They simply could not turn away. Jareth thought he might be sick.

One of the Munchkins looked up from the tea party she was having with a large stuffed animal and an amicable raccoon. Her wide, amethyst eyes fell on the strange couple in the doorway. She squealed, leaping to her feet and pointing at them. Her curly, blond pigtails bounced.

Before they realized what was happening, Jareth and Sarah were surrounded.

xXx

Sarah laughed happily as the bright yellow Unicorn nuzzled her. Buttercup, as the Unicorn was called, turned adoring eyes on the young woman and the three Munchkins perched on his back (Pip, Flip and Dingleberry- they were brothers) giggled along with her. A little girl Munchkin skipped up to her and shyly offered her a necklace made of chocolate drops. Sarah felt warm and peaceful and... kind of fuzzy.

She glanced over her shoulder to where Jareth had joined the little blonde, pig-tailed Munchkin, who had first spotted them, at her tea-party. Twitter offered him something which he examined before taking a delicate bite. "Hmm," he murmured, "Perhaps cookies _are_ underrated."

Brightly colored birds sang from trees laden with candied fruits. A burbling stream of lemonade (not chocolate- copyright infringement, remember?) bubbled and splashed down the hill. Golden sunshine made everything seem to glow, especially the rosy, always-smiling faces of the Munchkins. Everything was perfect. Everything was so gloriously perfect that Sarah threw out her arms and, still laughing, began to spin around. She twirled until her legs gave way beneath her. A hundred little Munchkins swarmed around her where she lay on the warm grass. She looked up at their grinning faces but everything was swirling so much that she had to close her eyes.

When her giggling had subsided, Sarah came to the abrupt realization that she was being pressed down by a mass of tiny hands. Her green eyes popped open and she immediately sought out Jareth. He had a silly grin on his face and he was saying, "My goodness, those cookies certainly pack a wallop, don't they?" He then fell over onto the grass and began snoring. The silly grin was still on his face.

She turned her attention to the mass of Munchkin faces surrounding her. They were not smiling anymore. And when had their eyes started glowing red?

xXx

Author's Note -

Just for clarification, it's pronounced Jan-EEL. Not that you care. Just... you know.

Munchkins. Evil, I tell you. Pure evil.

Smooches,

Danika

In addition to Marti's disclaimer in chapter two (which I totally forgot because I'm a dork)- We do not own the Oscars, The Wizard of Oz, Orlando Bloom (regret) or Willy Wonka.


	4. A Sticky Situation

**Muck**

or Jareth & Sarah's Smelly Little Problem

A Collaboration Between

Marti Owlsten

&

Danika Lareyna

Chapter Four

A Sticky Situation

It is interesting how certain things, like colors, can do things, like trigger a memory, or, say, clear your head and bring you to your senses. Red, at times, is one such color.

As hundreds of glowing red eyes pressed closer and closer around Sarah, to the point where she could no longer see Jareth, nor could she see much else (reminding her vaguely of gridlocked traffic at rush hour), the sweet happy feelings of not even five minutes previous came to a crashing halt, quickly being replaced with fear.

"Let me go!" she screamed, trying to fight the hands that pushed and prodded her. "Let me go! Jareth! Help!"

A ripple of maniacal laughter rang out among the munchkins as they lifted Sarah, her hands now bound in what looked like licorice rope (but was much stronger, and kind of rough on her wrists), over their heads as though she were crowd surfing, but, of course, she was not. If this was what crowd surfing was like, Sarah was positive that she would not make a good rock star, as she did not like it in the least.

Jareth was now beside her, still snoring with a ridiculous cookie-induced smile on his face. She tried to call out his name again, but it didn't faze him in the least. He snorted, muttered something about chocolate chips, and began to drool out of the side of his mouth in a most undignified way.

"Get your grimy, sugar coated hands off me!" she screamed again, trying her hardest to kick at the tiny attackers. It did not help the situation.

A small, red eyed face, with long, blonde, bouncy pigtails, came into her vision. "And here we thought you'd be the easy one! Ha! Can't have you making such a fuss! Toodles!"

The last thing Sarah saw before she blacked out, was a menacing blonde munchkin with red eyes raising a very thick candy-cane over its head, aiming right for her.

xXx

There were two things that Jareth noticed when the world came back into focus. The first was that he was incredibly dizzy, and the second was that he never wanted to eat another cookie in his life.

Well, at least not a chocolate chip cookie. No, that was for sure. He'd NEVER eat one ever again.

But… why? That's when things came into clearer focus. He blinked and looked around. Oh, perhaps that's why he was dizzy… he was bound in licorice and dangling over… something. His vision was still blurry, so it was difficult to tell.

"Sarah?" he asked, trying to look around. What was that smell? It was… it was… sickeningly sweet.

A groan met his ears, coming from behind him. He turned his head, trying to look for the source of the noise. All the Goblin King could see was brown hair littered with candy canes and other various forms or sticky candy. Minus the candy, he knew that hair anywhere. "Sarah!"

"Huh? Oh, my head…"

Jareth blinked again, wrinkling his nose from the horridly sweet smell (not that he minded sweet, but… even he had his limits), and began to piece together where they were.

As his vision cleared, and Sarah's moaning ceased from behind him, he could see that they were in a large room filled with bright, cheery colors… unfortunately, they weren't happy colors. They clashed and, cheery though they may be, they were unpleasant to look at when compiled so carelessly. Closer inspection revealed these to be boxes stacked up, one upon the other, varying in shapes and sizes. There were also large vats of bubbling substances all around them, each one emitting a different scent. There were munchkins all over, as well, carrying baskets of nuts, cream drops, cherries, and other, normally lovely, things to eat.

He groaned. Of all the places they could be… a candy factory, much like Willy Wonka's (though not nearly close enough to cause copyright infringement or cause any lawyers to worry in the least).

"Holy crap!" Sarah gasped when she'd finally come to and surveyed her surroundings. "It's like… it's like… rainbow vomit!"

Jareth wrinkled his nose in distaste at the crudeness of the girl's comment, and yet… he found he could not disagree with her.

"Jareth, where are we?" she asked.

Over his shoulder and in hushed tones, he replied, "A candy factory. Those horrid colors are boxes of candied items…"

"How many different sized boxes do they need?" she asked, mildly curious.

"That depends on what they are candying."

Sarah swallowed hard enough that Jareth could hear her do so. "What do you mean?"

"Look down, Sarah."

"I don't think I want to."

"You have to some time. Look down."

"What the heck is that?"

Jareth sighed, about to lean his head back against Sarah's, but changed his mind, quickly, when he remembered all the candy that was stuck in hers. "That would be molasses."

"What!"

He hushed her, quickly. "Quiet! They have not noticed we are awake, yet."

He felt her turn his way, "Okay, we're tied up and hanging over a bubbling pot of molasses? What are they going to do to us?"

He shrugged. "Well, I would assume they plan to dip us in the molasses and roll us in powdered sugar and place us each in a box… that is, unless we can figure out a way to get down from here and out of this factory."

"I don't want to die!" she moaned, "And if I do die, I don't want it to be by… by… candification! And," she moaned again, "If it has to be by candification, couldn't it at least be by chocolate?"

The Goblin King snorted, "Sarah, can we cease such talk of candification, and try to think of a way out of this?"

"You got any bright ideas?"

"Why do you think I was asking you?"

Sarah kicked behind her, hitting Jareth in the back of his calf. He grunted and Sarah smiled, feeling a little pleased with herself. Oh, sure, kicking the Goblin King didn't do anything to help her present situation, but it made her feel a little better. Not much, but a little.

Jareth ignored her tantrum (he would find a way to retaliate later, when they weren't going to drown in sugar) and began looking around.

"Sarah," he asked, suddenly, "Can you do the splits?"

"Excuse me? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just answer the question!"

"Almost!" she said, harshly, "Okay, are you happy? I can almost do the splits. I'm not that great in gymnastics, never was. I can do cartwheels and… what am I saying, _you_ don't need to know that. I can almost do splits, why do you need to know?"

Jareth nodded, conjuring a crystal in his hands, "Just hang on to your licorice…"

xXx

Jareth had been able to conjure a crystal that allowed him to cut Sarah's ropes. But, in an effort to get out of the factory without drawing unwanted attention from the munchkins (who, eerily enough, sang morbid songs about candied bones and sugared heads while they worked) he had to lower her first.

Sarah had been more than miffed when he'd asked about her doing the splits. What business what that of his, anyhow? But, she found out soon enough, there was a method to his madness. She had to be dropped rather quickly, and had to hold onto the licorice rope tightly, as Jareth, still bound himself and hanging from a kind of hook over the molasses pot, dropped her down.

She'd nearly squeaked, wondering if this was his way of getting his revenge on her or something like that, and he'd not keep his word, and not stop the rope just at the last, keeping her inches above the pot. But, he had sworn he would not let the rope slip from his grasp, and his word was as solid as his grip.

With Mission Impossible ease and skill, Jareth dropped Sarah to be inches above the pot… but, of course, this drop was not _exactly_ like the one Tom Cruise did on Mission Impossible. Sarah was not in a harness, and was sweating, but it didn't matter if her sweat dropped into the molasses or not. She had to do the splits with her legs to not only keep them out of the bubbling hot molasses, but also to reach the edge of the pot and slide herself over, and lower herself to the ground.

Once Sarah was safely down, Jareth loosened his own bonds and began to slither down the rope with absurd grace, as Sarah pulled it as far away from the pot as she could, in case he slipped or fell, or something equally awful.

No, she didn't care if he got burned or not. Of course not. No. She just couldn't get out of this place without him. Yes, that was it.

Together, they ran and hid behind two large boxes, painted in fluorescent pink and sour yellow.

Sarah was breathing heavily, feeling very frightened. With her back to the boxes, she took a deep breath, "Jareth… what… why…"

The Goblin King seemed to be slightly shaken, himself. He would never admit it, but he had secretly always feared the munchkins' dreaded candification processes. It had been a repressed fear, one he'd not thought about in a long time… besides, he'd heard that Janill had gone on a diet, and closed all her sugarfied factories down.

"Candy factories," he said, "Are the Maze's form of my Labyrinth's Oubliettes."

Sarah pulled a face at him, "You joking. Queen Jane,"

"Janill," he corrected. (Oh, he was bad at names, sure, but Janill's name was one that he'd never forget. It had been ground into his head, almost by force.)

"Whatever," Sarah dismissed, "Queen whatever her name is, Janill, installs factories into the holes where the 'unwanted visitors' go, and you just… leave them holes?" Sarah allowed herself a small smirk. "What, couldn't think of anything creative?"

Jareth matched her smirk, "Actually, I could have, but… I prefer them empty. Little chance for escape without help, you see, and I _did_ add some flare to them with my Helping Hands. But," he sobered, "Janill's factories have both form and function to them. She did not randomly decide to install them."

"So, what's the deal? She got a severe sweet tooth?"

He smiled, peering around the corner of the box to make sure no munchkins were coming, "Yes, she does, but so do her munchkins. As you can see, they are vicious little buggers, and eating sugar not only gives them something to do, but it keeps them relatively happy. I rule by might, Janill rules by sweetness – literally."

Sarah frowned at him, "Wait. You know this about them, and yet you still got stuck here…?"

He gave her an impatient look, "Did you not see the little one holding the tea party? She was terribly cute, very child-like. I deal with children on a regular basis. I thought I could handle her," he huffed a sigh, "Now, keep an eye out, and let us see if we can get out of here."

Sarah _really_ wanted to tease him some more about being fooled by a munchkin, or about being stupid for falling into the trap, or something, but… that could wait until they were out of the factory.

"How _do_ we get out of here?" she asked, not seeing a way out.

Jareth pursed his lips, "Unless Janill has changed things, there are two ways out. One, is in a box, as a treat."

Sarah frowned, "Um, what's option two?"

He smiled, "Well, then there should be a door, just as there are in my Oubliettes. We simply need to find it."

Sarah nodded. That didn't seem too hard, right? If the munchkins could get in and out, then, reasonably, so could they… not that anything here seemed reasonable…

Two munchkins came around the corner, then. Jareth threw out an arm and shoved Sarah back against the boxes. For the moment, they were safe… so long as the munchkins did not turn around.

They were gibbering on about the latest batch of chocolate, when one stopped and sniffed the air. Jareth winced. This could_ not_ be good.

"Hey," it said to the other one, "Are we doing peppermint, today?"

The second one shook its head. "No… we did that two weeks ago. I think. Why?"

Jareth turned a sharp eye to the candy still stuck in Sarah's hair. He saw it just as Sarah saw the two munchkins turn and spot them.

Thinking quickly, Jareth threw a crystal at the munchkins. It exploded in a spray of salt, making them cringe and run in the other direction.

"Come," he said quickly. "That will not keep them back for long. Hurry, we must find the door!"

xXx

Sarah decided, rather quickly, that it would be a very long time before she willingly ate sugar. The horrors of the small candy factory were more than enough to keep anyone from ever wanting anything sweet ever again. As it was, the smell in the air, while making her somewhat giddy, was giving her a headache.

Jareth wasn't doing much better, and his mood was becoming increasingly worse. The air-born sugar was adhering to his cloak and the bottom of his boots – one of his most comfortable pairs – were quickly coating themselves in grit.

And, not helping their situation, the munchkins now knew they were there.

Sarah was at her breaking point. The sugar was too much. "Jaareth," she said, her voice becoming somewhat shaky with an oncoming sugar-high, "Where is the door? We need out."

A horde of munchkins came around the corner, wielding very large pixie sticks. "There they are!"

Jareth swore. Unfortunately, he still hadn't spotted the door. He threw another crystal of salt, but that was already more magic than he'd dare use in Janill's realm, and it wouldn't hold them long.

Sarah, now feeling rather loopy on sugar, looked around, doing her best to think. It wasn't easy. Hoggle, in the Labyrinth – the wonderfully sugar-free Labyrinth – had put a piece of wood on the wall, and it had become the door.

To her left, there were large… what were they? She wasn't exactly sure… normally, she would say they were chocolate bars, but something about them was frightening. They were just flatly too big to be chocolate bars, and considering that she and Jareth had almost become powdered sugar lumps, she did not want to know what they were made of.

But, they were large and rectangular, and would work for a door.

"Jareth," she squealed, "I'll make a door!"

"Are you mad?"

"Shut up, no time to argue. Get me something for a knob!"

The salt was settling. They had to hurry. Sarah threw the bar against the wall of the factory just as Jareth had retrieved a strangely shaped gum drop for a knob.

It stuck instantly to the makeshift door. The horde was now running towards them…

Jareth turned the knob and it clicked. He threw the door open and Sarah pushed him through before shutting it behind her.

They were now… well, somewhere else. It appeared to be a very flowery garden with lots of bushes cut in various shapes, but that didn't matter. Sarah was just glad that she couldn't smell sugar anymore. She turned around, ready to do something to block the door they had made… but it was gone. Heaving a sigh, she turned her attention to her hair, and the gunk trapped in it.

Jareth pulled a face. "You might want to consider getting a hair cut."

There were lollipops, tootsie rolls, peppermint sticks, and something that she hoped was taffy, all tangled in her long tresses. The urge to scream that it wasn't fair was nearly overpowering. Were it not for the fact that the Goblin King was smirking at her, she surely would have said it aloud.

The more she tried to remove it, the stickier the substances became. She pulled and made a great fuss. The lollipops came out well enough as did most of the rest, but the taffy crud was trouble. The residual sugar-high did not help matters, either.

At last, near sobs, she looked up at Jareth, wordlessly. He gave her an almost-kind smile… almost. "Would you like some assistance?" he asked, smiling.

Sarah snorted and crossed her arms. "Assistance? Not particularly, but if you're offering, I'd take it just the same… I'm all jittery from the sugar, and can't keep my fingers straight…"

Jareth turned her around and began assessing her hair. As he did so, Sarah folded her arms and sulked, still shaking. "What I'd _like_," she grumbled, "Is a carrot."

xXx

Author's note –

Whoa, long time no… erm… read, huh? Well, after an exciting November of novel writing, Danika and I are back! Yeehaw! (And now it's Danika's turn! Hee!)

In my defense, I always found the story of Hansel and Gretel to be HIGHLY disturbing.

Another disclaimer: We still do not own Willy Wonka, the Wizard of Oz, or anything Labyrinth, and for this chapter, we also don't own Mission Impossible or Tom Cruise. We're just insane. Pity us, and send us reviews.

Much love,

Marti


	5. On the Importance of Appearances

**Muck**

or Jareth and Sarah's Smelly Little Problem

A Collaboration Between

Marti Owlsten

&

Danika Lareyna

Chapter Five

On the Importance of Appearances

"Open your eyes, Sarah."

"No," the girl replied, her lips set firmly in a stubborn pout. To add to the effect, she had her arms crossed and her brows furrowed in what Jareth could only describe as a _most_ petulant manner. Really, the child had no appreciation of his generosity. And yet, they were not in a position to enjoy a good shouting match, so he attempted to be solicitous.

"Look, Sarah," he said, in a tone he normally reserved for goblins who had managed to get themselves stuck in trees and needed to be coaxed down. "I assure you, it is not that bad."

Her only response was to shake her head. The firmness of this action was belied by the almost pathetic whimper, which gurgled at the back of her throat. A puff of breath escaped Jareth's lips, somewhere between an impatient hiss and a sympathetic sigh. He supposed it _was_ a shame. Even he would admit that her long hair had been lovely.

Had been, until a swarm of Munchkins had taken it upon themselves to 'decorate' it with their favorite gooey goodies, at least.

"Now, now, Sarah," Jareth said, reminding himself that the poor thing was still in shock and that he had to be soothing. Soothing was not a trait the Goblin King normally aspired to and, as such, he was somewhat out of practice. "You know that there was no other choice. The taffy had become so gummed we could scarcely tell where it left off and your hair began. And, of course, my dark magic has no effect on the stuff, as it is made of a diabolically pure mixture of pixie dust and sugar. There was simply no other way." Jareth patted her shoulder in what he hoped was a consoling sort of way. Attempting to perk her up, he continued, "And besides, I am really rather good with the scissors. Not to mention I _clearly_ have impeccable taste."

Sarah barked a laugh - or was it a sob? Either way, Jareth did not appreciate the implications. Losing his rather tenuous grip on patience, he snapped, 'Oh for the love of deceit, will you just open your bloody eyes?"

To his very great surprise, she did.

To her very great surprise, it was not as bad as she had feared. There were no spikes or streaks of unlikely colors, for one thing. Tentatively, Sarah reached up a hand to fluff her shockingly short, startlingly lightweight, and blessedly sugar-free hair.

They were still in the topiary garden. It seemed relatively safe for the time being, though the bushes, shaped like giant, cuddly animals, seemed to glare down at Jareth and put an itch between his shoulder blades. Not that he would admit that to Sarah. Still, he would have preferred to have moved on, but the insufferable girl had refused to budge until her hair had been dealt with. She was slightly less adamant when Jareth conjured a delicate pair of silver scissors and matching comb. An intensely nerve-wracking (for Sarah, at least) fifteen minutes later, Jareth led her to an ornamental mirror hanging against a shrub in one of the many cozy, decorative alcoves, which seemed scattered about the garden.

Sarah was staring into that mirror now, turning her head this way and that, while Jareth grew steadily more impatient behind her. She gave her hair a flip and admired how the slightly pixie-style cut settled easily back into place around her face. Just before he reached the point of snapping at her again, Sarah turned to face Jareth, giving him a pleased smile. "I like it," she declared, "I actually like it!"

"You don't have to sound so shocked," he replied, amused despite himself.

She turned back to the mirror. "Do you think my Dad'll like it?" she asked.

"Your father will be shocked and appalled at first. He will decide that you are crying out for attention and that he must take you fishing lest you join a gang and start using drugs. Eventually, though, he will decide that it is just a teenager phase and get used to it."

A chill ran down Sarah's spine. The voice that had answered her did not belong to Jareth.

xXx

It was not until she felt his (rather nice and warm) chest through the back of her blouse, that Sarah realized she had stumbled backwards into Jareth. She felt slightly less embarrassed about this when he placed a hand on either of her shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. In fact she was rather glad that her back was to him as it kept him from seeing her blush. Berating herself severely for losing touch with what was important, Sarah glanced around the small clearing, searching for the source of the voice.

She need not have bothered, it seemed, as Jareth already had a very good idea. He frowned at the mirror and, when it neither moved nor spoke again, decided to take a risk. Forcing his expression to shift from wary to polite, he said, "Thank you for answering my companion's question. Would you mind telling me your name and purpose?"

Sarah blinked up at Jareth and then, her eyes lighting with understanding, turned a fascinated gaze on the mirror.

"No," it said.

Sarah gaped, "What? Why n-" Her indignant exclamation was cut short when a gloved hand firmly covered her mouth. Green eyes sparkled with anger.

Jareth dipped his head and whispered into the seething girl's ear, "It meant that, no, it did not mind answering my questions. Now be still and let me handle this." Sarah squirmed a little and considered kicking him again, but decided that, this time at least, she would do ask he asked. Satisfied that she was not going to do anything stupid, the Goblin King returned his attention to the mirror. "What is your name and purpose?"

The surface of the mirror seemed to shimmer, though that could have been the sunlight through the clouds. "I am called Vyew," the mirror said. "My purpose is to answer questions truthfully."

Frowning, Jareth murmured, "Well, isn't that helpful." He noted that Sarah was nearly bouncing on her toes from excitement and put a bit more pressure on her shoulder. All he needed was her spouting off some inane, 'Who's the fairest of them all?' drivel. Instead, he collected his thoughts and asked, "What is the cost of your answers?"

The clear surface of the mirror sparkled and this time there was no doubt about the origin of the effect. Somehow, it managed to convey through those sparkles that it was amused by Jareth's question. "I ask no price for my knowledge. I merely-"

The voice within the mirror cut off. Both Jareth and Sarah frowned as the surface seemed to warp, bulging out and then shrinking back until, at last, it settled- a flat mirror once more.

Except that now it was green.

"What the he-" Sarah's shout was once again cut off by a leather-clad hand.

Tensing, lest he need to make a quick getaway (and drag the fluff-brained girl with him), Jareth said, "You were saying?"

The green glass swirled. "Ah was sayin' _hoo_-doggy! It's been an age 'n a half since Ah dun got me some vis'ters. Ya'll 're sure strange folk'n, but that there li'l missy is mighty perdy."

Simultaneously, Jareth and Sarah blinked. Then, finding that they really had no other decent response to this occurrence, they decided that there was nothing for it but to blink again. Actually, it was a rather impressive display of synchronized blinking. Unfortunately, they had more important things on their minds than possibly entering the Underground Championship Team Blinking competition next June.

Although that trophy and lifetime supply of eye drops would have been a sweet victory prize.

Recovering his wits at last, Jareth ventured, "Vyew? Is there a reason you sound so... different now?"

The mirror flashed once. "Vyew? Whatchu talkin' 'bout, Pardner? Thair ain't no 'Vyew' here. Mah name is Herman."

"Great," Sarah muttered. "A magic mirror with multiple personalities."

xXx

"So wait, let me get this straight," Sarah began, now sitting cross-legged on the grass before the magic mirror, "There are all sorts of different aspects of your magic, each with it's own purpose and it's own personality. Each answers questions, but in different ways, and after each has answered three questions you shift. Is that correct?" She tilted her head to the side as she gazed up at the mirror and was momentarily started when her hair did not tumble over her shoulder.

"That's right, Lady. You are just ever so clever to have figured all of that out. Why, you must be some sort of genius!" The mirror's tone was anything but complimentary. The current personality, which was represented by a golden brown color and went by the name of Ru, apparently answered questions in a truthful, but highly sarcastic, manner.

Jareth, perched on a decorative boulder behind Sarah (because 'Kings do _not_ sit in the dirt'), made a low snarling noise in the back of his throat. He leaned forward and hissed in the girl's ear, "We have gone over this a thousand times, why do you _possibly_ have to ask again?" Her new, short hair tickled his cheek when he did this, Jareth noticed.

Sarah blinked at him, the picture of innocence. "Because," she replied, quietly, "I want to know how many of them are in there."

The Goblin King rolled his eyes. "We have more important things to worry about. Perhaps you recall a little thing called the Soap of Infinite Cleansing?" The look on her face was all the answer he needed. Incredulous, Jareth exclaimed, "You had forgotten! Why do you think we are in this place at all?"

She blushed and turned away from him, "I hadn't really _forgotten_. It just... you know... slipped my mind." Sarah did not turn her face back but he could still make out her sheepish grin, "I guess I was just enjoying the adventure, that's all."

"Typical," Jareth muttered, causing Sarah to go red again. He turned his attention to the mirror and, in an imperative voice, intoned, "What is the safest way to reach the Temple of Enchanted Unguents?"

The mirror warped again, this time turning pink. A very feminine voice replied, "Well that depends. Why do you want to go there?"

Running a gloved finger along his jaw line, Jareth decided that it was best, for now, to answer as honestly- and vaguely- as possible. "I am in grave need of one of the potions found within."

"And why do you need it?"

This particular aspect of the mirror was obviously made to question the intent of the user. Taking his time, Jareth carefully considered how best to respond.

Unfortunately, his companion had little patience for this and answered for him. "Because I _accidentally_ tracked Bog of Eternal Stench all over his castle and he needs that special soap stuff to clean it up," Sarah said. That was definitely _not_ the best way to respond.

The mirror turned an even brighter shade of pink. "Your castle?" it asked. "The only people in the Underground with castles are the Munchkin Queen and..."

Before the mirror could finish its statement, Jareth was dragging Sarah to her feet. "Wha-?" the startled girl began.

"Not now," Jareth growled, grabbing her shoulders and giving her a shove down one of the garden corridors.

"But what's going on?" Sarah asked, her skin prickling with worry.

"The time for questions is over," Jareth exclaimed. He gave up on pushing her and instead grabbed her wrist and hauling her behind him. "Run!"

The last thing Sarah heard, as they high-tailed it out of the topiary garden, was an extremely loud, feminine voice shouting, "Shadow! Darkness! The Goblin King is in the Maze!"

xXx

"Alright, Jareth," Sarah said, "I don't get it."

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "And what is it that you do not 'get'?" he asked, arching a pointed brow.

"This place is supposed to be the land of sunshine and warm, squishy feelings, right?"

Jareth decided to save his breath and merely nodded his agreement.

"And your kingdom is all nastiness and yuck?"

He rolled his eyes, knowing full well that the effect was lost on her, as she was still behind him. "I believe that 'yuck' is a matter of opinion," he replied, "But yes, that is the general idea."

"Well then why is it that in _your_ kingdom I had no problem making friends and, until you actually sent them after me, none of them seemed actually to intend to hurt me." Her eyes lost a bit of focus as she continued, "Well, maybe the Wild Gang. And I'm not sure _what_ that lady in the junkyard wanted..."

"Is there a point to all of this blather?" Jareth asked, curtly.

"Well, yeah," Sarah said, her voice getting high and tense, "Then why is it that in the Maze everyone is trying to _kill me!_" She glanced over her shoulder at the swarm of creatures from which they were currently fleeing at high speed. One would not think that a small rodent, rather like a winged gerbil (if gerbils were purple), would be overly threatening. They took on a rather more menacing appearance when they were coming at you in a swarm of thousands, tiny little teeth bared and tiny little claws flexing in anticipation of rending your flesh from your bones.

They were running through a maze of tall, pearly walls which gleamed iridescently in the sunlight and looked vaguely like oversized doilies stood up and connected end to end. In an attempt to lose their multiple pursuers, Jareth hung a quick left, grabbing Sarah's wrist so that she would not overshoot. He spared a moment to give her a smirk, "Perhaps it is a reflection of _you_, rather than the inhabitants of this kingdom?"

Sarah squawked indignantly. "No, that doesn't make sense. I mean, _sure_ they want to attack you. You're the king of all that is icky and evil. But why me? I'm just an innocent young maiden!"

Spotting a narrow crack in one of the tall walls, Jareth quickly ducked into it, pulling Sarah behind him. The alcove was small, and they had to squeeze, but they both fit. The pair waited in tense silence, pressed tightly together out of necessity, as the horde approached. A bead of sweat trickled down Jareth's brow and Sarah's hands compulsively clutched at his sleeves. Time seemed to slow to an agonizing crawl.

The air began to shudder with the beating of a thousand tiny wings.

A wave of fuzzy purple began to flash past their hiding spot. More and more, a veritable horde of flying, purple gerbils. Sarah fought the suicidal urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of their situation.

And then they were past.

For long minutes after the vicious creatures had past, neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. They barely dared to breath.

At last, Jareth judged it to be safe and untangled himself from Sarah, emerging from their hiding place to glance up and down the corridor. He gave her a nod and Sarah reentered the sunlight.

"Wow, that was close," she said, fanning herself with her hand.

Leaning casually against a wall, just as if he had not been terrified for his life minutes ago, Jareth snorted. "In answer to your question," he said, "You may be good- and that _is _debatable, but you are not good enough."

"What?" she asked, running a hand through her short hair and turning to look at him.

"The Munchkins," he replied, "And all of the creatures of this realm, really. They consider it their sacred duty to do away with anything that does not meet their standards of sweetness and joy."

Her brow furrowed. "So what do you have to do to meet those standards?" she demanded, "Fart rainbows?"

Jareth snorted, "Practically." Quickly, though, his expression shifted from amusement to a glower. "And, just so we are clear, I am _not_ evil."

Sarah gave him a confused look. "What?"

"You said that I am the king of all that is icky and evil. You are wrong. I am the king of that which resides in the dark, and it is true that that includes many evil beings, but that does not make all of them, or myself, evil." He paused, looking her in the eyes, and a nasty smirk twisted his lips. "This is not to say, of course, that I cannot be very, _very_ wicked, if I so choose."

Sarah's face scrunched, "Ew! Fifteen year old here. Geez."

Jareth chortled... wickedly.

xXx

Author's Note:

Please ignore the cobwebs and dust of neglect which covers poor Muck here. It's all Marti's fault, really. _She_ was supposed to nag me until I posted this chapter. Clearly she failed in her task as I had to motivate _myself_ to update.

The very thought!


	6. Think Happy Thoughts

**Muck**

or Jareth and Sarah's Smelly Little Problem

A Collaboration Between

Marti Owlsten

&

Danika Lareyna

Chapter Six

Think Happy Thoughts

"Okay," Sarah said, hoping to change the subject to something more useful, "So… I'm not perfect, I get that… I think."

Jareth fixed Sarah with an amused expression, "What a pronouncement. Are you saying that a horde of flying rodents was enough to make you sprout humility?"

Feeling rather frustrated, and in lacking something else to expel her frustration on, Sarah shoved Jareth with both hands, hard. Sure, she could have kicked the wall, or dirt, or something, but, at this point, she was not entire sure if said things, seeming docile as they were, would not just kick back. At least if Jareth shoved back, it would not necessarily take her by surprise.

He laughed as he caught his balance and began to examine the corridor in which they now stood.

"I'm glad you find this all so humorous," she snapped, "I wasn't finished. I was going to say that, sure, I'm not perfect, and neither are you, so that would account for the munchkins trying to turn us into next years Easter candy and what not, but the mirror with multiple personality disorder didn't shriek out 'oh, look, two less-than-perfect intruders!'. It called out a warning that _you_ were here."

Inwardly, Jareth groaned. Sarah, while lacking in tact and forethought, was bright enough to put two and two together. He had been hoping she would have overlooked that warning. "You are quite astute," he commented lightly, as they began to move down the corridor with caution.

Sarah, following Jareth's lead, followed him, slowly. She kept her voice low, and her eyes on alert, but that did not mean she would shut her face. "Why do they care if you enter the Maze or not?"

Briefly, they heard the sound of wings again, and held still, listening. Jareth used the moment to collect his thoughts and figure out what to tell her, exactly.

When the sound faded, Jareth gave her a brief glance before slowly moving down the corridor again. "The Munchkin Queen and I were once strong allies."

"What changed?"

"There was," he winced, but only because he was certain that Sarah could not see, "A severe conflict of interest. I saw that our alliance was no longer beneficial to my kingdom, and I dissolved it. She was not very pleased." Jareth paused as they approached a fork in their path, to consider which direction to take.

Sarah, who had been looking over her shoulder as she walked, had not noticed this, and nearly walked into him – catching herself at the last minute. "So, what, did the Munchkin Queen declare war or something? What happened after you dissolved it?"

"She was upset, Sarah, not foolish," he said, with a smirk. "You forget – things in her kingdom like perfection. War with me would not keep her realm pristine and perfect – my goblins alone could easily see to that, and with very little effort," he frowned, considering their path. "No, instead she banned me and mine, upon penalty of death or worse."

Sarah mulled that over in her thoughts. "What could possibly be worse than death?" she asked.

Jareth turned to her, "We just escaped being candied alive and were then almost swarmed by gerbils with wings and very large teeth. Considering those forms of death, Sarah, do you truly wish to know what is worse?"

Absently, Sarah reached up and fingered her short hair again, "Okay, so maybe I don't want to know."

He turned back to the road. "Which path, now?" he pondered aloud.

Sarah shrugged, "Search me,"

"Perhaps another time," he said, with a regal snort.

That was it. "Will you _stop_ that?" she growled, giving him another shove – the first had been quiet enjoyable, and she was more than willing to do so again, especially given that Jareth was more than happy to pull and push her, whenever he felt like it. It was only _fair_.

But her glee was short lived. Sarah's shove was stronger than she had realized, and Jareth had certainly not been expecting it, and he staggered into the middle of the fork in the road. He whirled on her, anger flashing in his eyes and a diatribe ready on his tongue, but something in the movements caused a chain reaction.

Sarah watched in utter horror as a hole in the ground beneath his boots opened up, the Goblin King dropped out of sight, and the hole closed as if it had never existed.

It happened so quickly, there had not been time to react. Of course, being that Sarah was only fifteen, rather lacking in upper body strength, and also that Jareth was much bigger than she was herself, even if there had been time, it was highly unlikely that she could have done much good. Though, once he had disappeared, Sarah's instincts took over. She lunged forward, dropped to her knees and began pounding on the ground where the hole had been, throwing one of the largest fits of her life.

"Give him back!" she shrieked, "Come back, now! It's not _fair!_ And that's _actually true this time!_" She halted and panted, breathlessly, looking around her. She was completely alone.

"I am so screwed."

xXx

Pounding on the ground had failed. So had jumping, stamping, and dancing. Sarah stood just beside the spot where Jareth had fallen through, at a complete loss as to what more she could do to get it to open up again, preferably without sucking herself down into it to join him. She was doing what she could to help, yes, but she would much rather get him _out_ than to join him down _in_ the hole.

"Okay, okay," she said to herself. "I can figure this out. I defeated the Labyrinth, and if I can do that, I can certainly outwit this Maze. I just need to think about this logically." She sat herself down, cross-legged, and began to backtrack the events before the Goblin King had fallen into the hole. "We were starting to argue – nothing new there – and I pushed him, and he spun around and the hole swallowed him up."

With a sigh, Sarah got to her feet and backed up, standing where Jareth had been just before she had pushed him.

"Alright, I shall pretend I am him. We'll see what this does…" she frowned, worry creasing her brow, "…If this doesn't work, he is SO going to murder me…"

Sarah stood up straight, puffed out her chest and sneered. "Alright now, I am standing here, thinking wicked things, no doubt, when I made one more snarky comment and Sarah rightfully shoved me," she staggered into the fork in the road, just as Jareth had, "Out here. I stood here for a bit, probably thinking of something else mean to say, and then turned around," Sarah spun…

Nothing.

She narrowed her eyes. "Perhaps if I add a girlier spin to things…" she twirled on the spot.

Still nothing.

She stamped her foot in sheer irritation, and swore under her breath. "Curse you, Jareth! Why did you have to do whatever the heck it was that you did to get that stupid hole to eat you? This _stinks!_"

Something clicked beneath her, and with a gasp of horror, the floor dropped away, and so did Sarah.

xXx

If the scream had not been an indication that Sarah, too, had fallen into the hole, then certainly the hiss of irritated snakes would have been.

"Sarah?" Jareth asked in the faint light, just to make sure. He had to keep her from panicking, and quickly.

"Jareth?" came a trembling, and rather shrilly voice, not too far in front of him. "You're okay!"

He grit his teeth, swallowing the rude comments that wanted to spill from his lips. "Sarah! Darling!" he called out in the most adoring tones he could manage, "I am so glad you could join me!"

Sarah blinked into the dark. Had she heard him correctly? _Darling_? "Did you hit your head, or something? And what am I in? This… this… these…"

The panic in Sarah's voice was evident, Jareth acted as quickly as he could, "My dearest!" he hollered sharply, to distract her, "Do not worry that pretty little head of yours one bit, and," his voice lost some of it's delight, "Get over here, right now!"

Sarah blinked, forcing her eyes to adjust. She had a good clue as to what was slipping and _slithering_ around her feet. She could feel something hard beneath, she hoped it was the floor, but she was nearly knee deep in, if she was not mistaken, _snakes_.

And, while she didn't have a particular fear of snakes or a severe hatred for them, she certainly did not like swimming among them.

The only thing that kept her from screaming her brains out (and even then, it was just barely), was Jareth. Something was up – he would certainly not have called her 'darling' after she had pushed him out into the fork in the road.

She frowned, trying to see him better in the light, and to also keep as calm as possible. "Where are you?" she asked, a tremor in her voice. Which was more frightening, Jareth or the snakes, was hard to say.

"Behind you, _Punnkin_," he said in a rush. "Now hurry over here…" he clenched his teeth again, "I _miss_ you."

Sarah did turn to face him, finally spotting him in what she now recognized as a dim light, not just darkness, but, she was utterly bewildered. "Seriously, did you smack your head or something? I don't get it! You've been nothing but a big fat jerk to me since we got here, as if those crappy gerbils had been my fault and…"

Sarah trailed off, her face taking on a look of utter horror, as the snakes began to tighten around her legs. Jareth sighed. She obviously would not be able to make her way over to him without resorting to insults. He would have to go get her.

"Never fear, my little _pookie_, I am coming!" Oh, he had been so grateful to get to the first few steps of the stairs that were the key to escaping their new predicament because it had meant he no long had the snakes, many of which were dangerous (though, he was not about to mention that to the already panicking Sarah) and even deadly. Now, he groaned silently as he had to wade back through them.

Sarah's heart was racing, "Hurry, please," she breathed. Two snakes had tightened their grip around her ankles, and were not letting go. She was petrified.

"There, there," Jareth cooed, approaching her and reaching out to take her hand, "My _sweet_, everything shall be just fine now."

"Stop that!" she gasped, "You're being too nice! Ah!" the snakes tightened down another notch.

Jareth reached out, passing by her hands and took her face in both his gloved hands, forcing her to look up into his gaze, "Listen carefully, my _precious_ one," he said, and Sarah could now see the anger and frustration in his eyes that was carefully hidden from his voice, "And do what I say, alright? Tell me, right now, how nice it was of me to come out here and fetch you."

She was so very confused, "What?"

He locked eyes with her, "Trust me, Sarah," he said, his voice at last taking on a more familiar tone, just enough were, yes, she felt she could trust him. He might be up to something, but he was not yet out of his mind.

"Um," she said, frantically, "Th-thank you, you came all the way o-over here, th-that was so, um, wonderful!"

Relief flooded her face as she felt the snakes loosen their hold on her.

Jareth nodded, "Good, good, now," he forced a smile, "If you can manage some sort of… _pet_ name, I am almost positive that your _delicate_ feet will have free movement once again."

She nodded, thinking as quickly as she could. "Okay. Thank you, my darling… studly-muffin cakes…"

Jareth rolled his eyes, but the snakes released her legs and she could move again. Quickly, before she started to insult him again, he took her by the hand and drug her towards their way out.

"Hey," she said, still shaking, "Mind telling me where we are? I still can't see very well."

"We have fallen into one of Janill's versions of my Oubliettes," Jareth said, quietly, sweetly, over his shoulder. "Except that while mine are designed to be dark holes where I can place those I would rather forget about, as I am sure Hodge-pode told you,"

"Hoggle," Sarah interjected.

"Of course, my sweet," he continuted, "Janill's are quite different. They aren't Oubliettes. We are in a…" a pained expression crossed his face, as though he could barely stand to utter his next words, "A Naughty-hole."

Sarah snorted with laughter, "I don't believe that for a second!"

"Believe it," he said, "And these holes are not designed to just hold individuals, my snookums. They are designed to rid the Maze of things that are decidedly not nice."

Sarah swallowed, hard, "What do you mean, 'rid'?"

They reached the stairs and took a couple of steps upward, out of the snakes. He gave her a pointed look, "You might say this was a fancy garbage chute."

Sarah paled, slightly. That was never good to hear – that you had fallen in with the garbage. She looked around, though, her eyes having now adjusted, and saw that Jareth had led her to a spiral stairway that went straight up.

"What now, then?" she asked, almost afraid of his answer. Stairs were just too simple.

He shrugged, "As you may have noticed, these snakes do not like a contrary attitude, and tend to get violent when you even think ill against, frankly, anything in the least. I was standing above this particular hole just as my temper flared," he paused, biting his lip in tense concentration, "And the hole opened up. I assume that you had some colorful terms on your lips as well, when the hole dropped you in, as well."

She nodded, "Yes… _honey,_ I did. Wait… question," she looked back to where they had just come from, and her eyes trailed to where they currently stood, "Why weren't you trying to get up these stairs, when I fell down? How long did it take you to get over here, anyway?"

He forced a smile – one that was completely unlike his usual smile or smirks, and made him look somewhat ridiculous – and said, stiffly, "Oh, _my pet_, I was utterly furious with you, and was… _very naughty_… when I fell in. It took me quite a bit of time to calm myself enough to keep the snakes away. Were it not for my boots, I could easily be dead right now," _thanks to you._

Oh, sure, he had not said those last few words aloud, but Sarah could all but hear them, just the same. Sure, she had gotten angry at him. Sure, she had lost her temper. But those were no worse than what he had put her through, so far. She most certainly had not intended to send him down into a snake pit to die, and Sarah was angry that he would (were they not being forced to be so very nice to one another at the current moment) say such a thing to her, as if she had deliberately tried to kill him.

Her anger flashed, "You know I didn't mean for this to happen, stop blaming me!"

He blinked, "Blaming you? How dare you-"

They both gasped as the steps beneath them flattened and they both staggered into the snakes again, which promptly swarmed them. The snakes began to swirl around their legs, tightening severely and, in Sarah's case, cutting off some circulation.

"Happy thoughts, Sarah," he said, his voice strained. "Unicorns, puppies, and all sorts of fuzzy tripe…"

Sarah squeezed her eyes tightly shut, muttering, "Puppies, valentines, Christmas mornings, birthday presents…"

"Vain thing, aren't you?" Jareth muttered, thoughtlessly, and just above a whisper.

Sarah's eyes shot open, angrily, but she quickly swallowed it down. "_Sugar dumpling_, how the heck do we get out of this hole?"

He smiled again, locking eyes with her. "Endless happy thoughts as you climb those stairs. Get angry, or unhappy, or afraid, and those stairs will flatten as they did to us a moment ago, and you come sliding back down into some very, very, angry snakes. The farther up you are, the more aggressive they are, and the more likely you are to die."

"Happy thoughts," Sarah paled a little, again, "We're never going to get out of here."

Jareth's hands flew to his hips, "Certainly not with that attitude, my _angel_."

"Bite me!"

Jareth's eyes went wide, "Foolish girl, do not say that in a Naughty hole!"

But it was too late. These two were not going to get along, and the snakes could tell. A large snake, hissing and angry, rose up out of the others, posing to strike at Sarah. Jareth lunged forward, shoving Sarah towards the stairway before the snake was able to strike. She did not need to be told twice and bolted for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

"Happy thoughts!" she bleated, "Happy thoughts! Jareth, I can't think of any!"

"Yes, you can, _my snicker doodle,_ just use your head! Small fuzzy animals!"

"Um…" she had tired quickly and was now going only one stair at a time, though not any slower than before, "Summer days!"

"Freshly baked cookies!" Jareth called out as he followed her up the stairs.

"Daisies!"

"Roses!"

"Thorns!" Sarah called, instinctively, but it had been a bad choice of words. Thorns were most definitely not nice things. Both cried out as the stairs beneath them flattened and they began to slide back down the direction they had come – only this time, the snakes were not sitting idly by – they seemed to be seething, waiting for their soon-to-be prey.

Jareth shoved his boots out to brace against the slide, catching Sarah and slowing them enough to buy them some time to think of something happy. He thought quickly… Sarah needed a severe distraction…

"I'm sorry," she was babbling, "I didn't mean that, it was just the next thing that popped into my head! I didn't even realize it wouldn't be happy, even though I know thorns aren't happy, I'm so sorry!"

"Kissing in the rain!" Jareth nearly shouted. Sarah ceased her apologies to blush madly, and the stairs beneath them reappeared. He stood, hauling Sarah to her feet, and gave her a pointed look, "Hang on to that thought, _sugar plum_, and let us continue, shall we?"

Still blushing, she nodded, and they continued up the stairs as quickly as they could. The sooner they got out of the Naughty hole, the better.

xXx

Sarah had been worried about what they would have to do to get out, once they had reached the top, if it had taken the idea of kissing someone in the rain just to get the steps back, but it turned out that her worry was for naught. When they reached the top of the stairs, it was a simple exit – a hatch that pulled down revealing a ladder (much like the entrance to an attic) that took them back into the Maze.

Sarah was trembling as they sat on the edge of the hole, after making sure there were no flying purple gerbils or evil munchkins about, gathering their bearings. The whole ordeal, including the pet-names, had left her rather shaken. How could she have ever thought a tunnel of Helping Hands leading to a merely dark Oubliette, to be so horrible? She should have been grateful! That experience had been, well, a piece of cake compared to what she had just endured.

Stealing a glance at Jareth, who was sitting across from her, she was relieved to see she was not the only one shaking. He was sitting there, examining his forearm, a crease in his brow.

"Something the matter?" she asked, softly, a breeze ruffling her short hair.

He quickly clamped a dark glove over his arm and shook his head, "Nothing."

Sarah frowned, "No, not nothing. What's wrong – holy crap, is that blood?" There was a small dribble of red on his cuff.

Determinedly, he stood and shook his head, "A scratch, nothing more," he said, still keeping his hand over his forearm.

A horribly dark feeling settled in Sarah's stomach, and she hurried to her feet to follow him – though, he did not appear to be going anywhere at the moment. No, instead, he was swaying a little, back and forth. She seized the opportunity, as he closed his eyes for a moment, and snatched his hand away from his arm.

Sarah gasped. It was certainly not a scratch. Just past his gloves, on his left forearm was two puncture marks in his shirt. Beneath the torn holes, Sarah could most definitely see red blood and swollen skin.

Her hand came up to cover her mouth, as tears sprang to her eyes. A cobra had been ready to strike at her, Jareth had shoved her out of the way, and had obviously taken the strike that had been aimed at her.

"Oh, Jareth," she sobbed, "You've been bitten!"

xXx

Author's note:

Wow, will you look at that? I updated. Please, don't kill me.

Oh, and remember – Danika gets to write the next chapter (muahahaha) so be sure to pester her to update. Muah!

Marti


	7. Guaranteed to Blow Your Mind

**Muck**

or Jareth and Sarah's Smelly Little Problem

A Collaboration Between

Marti Owlsten

&

Danika Lareyna

Chapter Seven

Guaranteed to Blow Your Mind

"Oh, Jareth," she sobbed, "You've been bitten!"

He pulled his arm away and clapped his hand once more over the wound and then winced, clearly regretting the action. Pain, stress and an uncomfortable dizziness, the origins of which he did _not_ want to contemplate, made the Goblin King slightly snappish. "There's no need to make a fuss," he growled. "I'll be just fine."

Sarah, clearly incapable of letting the subject drop, had slipped into the first stages of full-blown panic. Her wide eyes began darting frantically around the corridor in which they had found themselves, her hands clutching at his arm above the wound. "We need a doctor, or a first aid kit, or… do you think it's too late to suck out the poison…?"

Jareth allowed the girl to continue blathering uselessly as he closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. After a moment, the dizziness receded and his shaking quieted. He was about to open his eyes again when he heard a prolonged tearing sound and there was a pressure on his injured arm.

Glancing down he saw two trembling hands, clumsily attempting to wrap a strip of pale blue material around the punctured skin. The exact same pale blue, he noted, as Sarah's shirt. Indeed, a strip of material had been raggedly torn away around the hem of her blouse, revealing a band of creamy skin and a very cute, if Jareth did say so himself, bellybutton. Elevating his gaze further, he met Sarah's eyes, laden with guilt and tears.

"I don't know what else to do, Jareth," she said, her voice sounding much less whiny to him than it might have, "I just don't know what else to do."

Jareth was rather horrified to find that his first impulse was to gently brush the tears from her cheeks and comfort her. Instead, he got a firm grip on himself and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. "Sarah," he growled, "Will you stop blubbering? Look, I don't need your help." He quickly unwrapped her carefully wound cloth and used it to rub away some of the blood. Holding up his arm to her, he said, "See? All better."

She stared, wide-eyed, at the unblemished stretch of skin. Hesitantly, she reached out and brushed it with one finger. Only then convinced that the puncture wounds had vanished, she exclaimed, "But how?"

"I'm Fae," he said, simply, "Or didn't you notice the glowing blood?"

Sarah held up the finger with which she had touched him. There was a tiny bit of drying blood on her nail and she examined it carefully. It _was_ faintly glowing. "Weird," she murmured.

He snorted, "As if non-glowing blood is perfectly normal." He glanced up and down the corridor and then decided to risk a tiny trickle of magic to close up the hole in his sleeve. Blood stains, of course, were much more difficult to get out (as any good housewife will tell you), so he resigned himself to leaving them be for the moment. "Anyway," he huffed, "There was no reason for you to get yourself into a tizzy."

She glowered at him for a long moment, trying and failing to come up with a witty retort. Finally, she dashed the last of the tears from her eyes with a sleeve and growled, "I was only worried about you. _Men_." She paused, her eyebrows bunching, "…or whatever."

Jareth stood, waiting until Sarah moved her legs and then kicking the trap door closed with one foot. She stayed on the ground, scooting back to rest her head against one of the dark gray brick walls of the hallway. She was still a bit pale and he could hear her pulse just now slowing. He stared at the strip of blue cloth in his gloved hand and then tucked it carefully into an interdimensional pocket. Quietly, he said, "Thank you. For trying to help."

Her head snapped up and she stared at him with such blatant incredulity and he could not help but turn his eyes to the sky and say, "_Women_." Then, just for cheek, he added, "…or whatever."

They glowered at each other for a long moment, but Sarah's resolve failed first and her lips quirked, a giggle escaping. As if that had released them, they both began laughing in truth. The extreme tension they had been under releasing in an uncontrollable burst. Sarah clutched her stomach and kicked her legs; Jareth bent over, supporting himself with a hand on his knee. They were both aware that, to a rational outsider, they must look like a couple of loons.

It was a good five minutes before they were able to collect themselves.

"So now what?" Sarah asked, finding that she had another batch of tears to wipe away with her sleeve. Jareth had his back to her and was examining the opposite wall. The squeaky-clean hallway reminded her of the initial corridor they had found themselves in, upon entering the Maze. The only difference, and slightly ominous one at that, was that it extended into an arch over their head with only tiny, round portals of light spaced evenly along the top of the roof. The little windows did not allow much light in and it was by far the most intimidating place she had found herself, in the otherwise bright and colorful Maze.

"Well I would certainly suggest avoiding any more Naughty-holes," Jareth said, his voice light. Too light. A trickle of suspicion wound its way down Sarah's spine.

"Agreed," she said, carefully.

"Of course," the Goblin King continued blithely, turning to face her, "At the moment we have far worse things to worry about."

The trickle suddenly switched into Niagara Falls mode. "What do you mean?" she asked, glancing once more up and down the seemingly deserted hall.

Jareth sobered, mismatched blue eyes meeting anxious green. "I told you that the Naughty-holes are the Maze equivalent of my Oubliettes, correct?"

Niagara Falls was very cold, Sarah noted. Slowly, she nodded.

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a menacing growl, "And do you recall what happened after you left my Oubliette?"

Sarah frowned and screwed up her face in concentration. "Let's see... Um... Hoggle said some mean things... and then there were the False Alarms... and... uh..."

The Goblin King pinched the bridge of his nose, "It was a _week_ ago, Sarah. Is it really that difficult to remember?"

Sarah frowned, "Cut me some slack- I was under a lot of stress!" Suddenly, it hit her. "...then you came and took some of my time away, you big jerk!" she exclaimed, furiously.

Jareth grinned, "Ah, yes. Good times. But the point is, after the Oubliette, you met up with _me_. All such traps are rigged so that, in the unlikely event that someone actually gets out, the ruler of the land immediately knows about it."

"Then Queen Julie-"

"That's _Janill_," a melodious voice calmly stated from behind her. Sarah lurched forward and would have fallen on her face had Jareth not quickly stepped over to catch her. She could be forgiven for her reaction, considering that she had been fairly certain that 'behind her' only included the wall against which she had been leaning.

She turned in Jareth's arms just in time to see the wall, which had seemed a simple stone structure, begin to writhe. Both of them froze, Sarah in terror and Jareth with a resigned expression on his pale face. The wall swirled menacingly for a moment, bubbles coming to the surface and bursting as if the very stone were coming to a rolling boil. As they watched, the bubbles increased, seeming to take up the entire wall, and shifting from dark gray to every color of the rainbow- most in shades of pastel.

From the center of the mass of bubbles stepped a female. After the other sights of the Maze, Sarah discovered that she had come to picture the Munchkin Queen as a sort of Glinda figure, from the Wizard of Oz. She discovered that she was overwhelmingly wrong in that expectation.

For one thing, Glinda had not looked as if she could bench-press Dorothy, Toto and probably the Tin Man, too.

She wore a pale pink, glittering body leotard with darker pink leggings. A dark purple half-shirt was tied closed just under her breasts and displayed arms that somehow managed to be both feminine and intimidatingly well-muscled. To complete the outfit, she had a pair of dark purple leg warmers and a matching sweat band across her forehead. The first thing that popped into Sarah's mind was that the Munchkin Queen looked an awful lot like Olivia Newton-John from the 'Let's Get Physical' music video, on steroids.

Of course, unlike Olivia Newton-John, Queen Janill's skin was a rich cinnamon color. Her hair was thick, black and perfectly wavy, pulled into a high ponytail above the purple sweatband. Her eyes glittered as she took the pair in, one dark as midnight, the other a lighter amber.

She was, all things considered, quite a woman. Sarah blushed, feeling inadequate and wondering if she could crawl back into the Naughty-hole… unfortunately, she could no longer find the top of the trap door.

"Well, well," the Queen exclaimed, her voice low and musical. "What are you doing here, Gobbers?"

Sarah could not help herself, she blinked and exclaimed, "_Gobbers_?"

She had made the mistake of meeting Janill's eyes. The Munchkin Queen gave her a patronizing smile. "Why yes," she said, "Didn't he tell you? That was my old pet name for him." She leaned forward a bit, showing off more cleavage than any leotard had right to. In a conspiratorial stage-whisper, she said, "He called me Munchy."

Through a massive force of will, Sarah managed not to make a face at these horrific nicknames. Jareth did not bother to restrain himself and groaned, "Janill, I hated those back… then and I hate them now. _Please_ refrain."

Janill straightened, her dark, mismatched eyes cold. "'Back then' he says," she sneered, "As if it were nothing. As if it weren't the most beautiful time of either of our immortal lives." She focused on Jareth, "And now here you are again, and dragging your little human _hussy_ around with you, no less."

Sarah could feel Jareth tense to speak behind her, but exclaimed over whatever it was he intended to say, "I am _not_ his _hussy_!"

The Queen's gaze roamed slowly from the top of Sarah's head, down to her Converse sneakers and back, hovering pointedly at her bared midriff, where Jareth's hands still rested after having caught her from her near fall. Sarah's face quickly flooded with color and she squirmed until he released her. She stepped a little away from him, but could not seem to make her throat work so she settled for glaring at the floor, deeply embarrassed.

"Leave her be," Jareth growled, drawing Janill's attention back to him. "You know why I brought her. She's more hindrance than anything else, anyway." Sarah choked, nearly quivering with anger now, but held her tongue.

Janill shot one more sideways glance at the mortal girl before returning her full attention to the Goblin King. She took a slow step towards him, her hips swaying. "It's good to see you again, Gobbers," she drawled. "But I do believe I told you I would kill you if I ever caught you in my realm."

Jareth winced at the name, but decided that he would have to choose his battles. "You know why I'm here," he said. "I'm sure your little spies have informed you of my predicament. Nothing I do can drive the persistent little buggers away."

She smiled, "Ah, yes. My fairies. They are rather effective. However, you are wrong. For some reason they won't go within a mile of your castle lately. And I cannot seem to get it out of them what the problem is." She gave Jareth a steamy look through her eyelashes, "Illuminate me."

Sarah thought she might gag, and it had _nothing_ to do with the Bog of Eternal Stench, this time.

Jareth, who was well adept at steamy looks of his own, ignored her expression and simply answered the question. "There was an… accident. I find myself in need of a vial of the Soap."

She arched her brows incredulously, "You expect me to give you some of my Soap of Infinite Cleansing?"

A shadow fell across Jareth's features. Through his teeth, he growled, "Please?"

The Munchkin Queen fell back a step, laughing. Sarah was slightly comforted in that her laugh was nowhere near as seductive and throaty as her speaking voice. More along the lines of, 'high and screechy'. Between fits of hilarity, she managed to gasp, "And why would I give you one of my precious unguents?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Sarah noticed Jareth trembling, his hands clenched so tightly into fists she was a little surprised his gloves didn't burst. _Amazing what a common enemy does to people,_ Sarah thought, even as she hesitantly reached over to lay a hand on his arm. He shot her a quick, surprised look, but seemed to calm down- a little.

"I don't suppose you would just do it for old times sake?" he sighed.

Janill calmed herself and smiled at him. Her teeth, Sarah noted, were sickeningly straight and white. "After what you did to me? I'd rather remove every inch of your skin with a rusty grapefruit spoon and then make you dance for me as your innards fell around your feet."

"Charming, as always," Jareth replied. "Fine. What is your price?"

She batted her eyelashes at him- _she actually batted her eyelashes at him!_ Sarah's nose wrinkled. This conversation was getting more surreal and uncomfortable by the second. "I think you know my price, Gobsy-Wobsy," Janill purred.

Sarah shot a glance at Jareth and was rather gratified to see that he looked rather green at Janill's suggestion. Not that it was any of her business. Or she cared.

Of course not.

"You know very well that that will not happen," Jareth said, his pose stiff and his eyes gazing somewhere over the Munchkin Queen's head. His expression was completely emotionless.

Janill tensed, her face flushing with anger. "Oh no?" she said. Slowly, she took three steps down the hall, away from them. She brought up her hands, a perfect, silvery rose forming at her fingertips. She twirled the stem between her fingers as she spoke, "Well you know the rules of the Temple of Enchanted Unguents. You're welcome to one vial of whatever you find there… provided you can get in." Her full lips stretched in a slightly manic smile as her eyes darted one more time to Sarah. "Good luck with that," she sneered.

Before Sarah could respond, the Munchkin Queen spun and threw the glimmering rose down the corridor, where it quickly disappeared into the darkness. Janill soon followed suit.

Jareth and Sarah exchanged a worried glance and then an ominous, rhythmic clicking sound came to her ears. Sarah took a hesitant step back, "What is that? Is that a… bomb?"

The Goblin King didn't seem to hear her. He stared down the hall, eyes wider than she had ever seen them. "Oh no," he whispered, his voice low and terror-filled, "It's the Cleaners."

"Now wait just a minute here," Sarah exclaimed, but was unable to finish her sentence as Jareth grabbed her wrist and began hauling her the other way down the corridor.

"Run!" he shouted, and Sarah was obliged to obey.

"Jareth!" Sarah squawked, pumping her legs furiously to keep from having her arm ripped from its socket, if nothing else. "Wait, is this like the Cleaners from the Labyrinth?"

"Of course not," he called, without slowing. "Where do you get these foolish ideas, Sarah?"

The clicking was growing steadily louder and Sarah risked a glance behind her. "Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me," she exclaimed.

Behind them, and approaching quickly, were a trio of women in scandalously short black dresses with white aprons and matching caps in their hair. The clicking came from their extraordinarily high-heels. In their hands were various cleaning instruments.

"Are you honestly telling me," Sarah panted, "That you're terrified of _the maid brigade_?!"

"Those are no ordinary housekeepers, Sarah. Just look at them!"

She couldn't argue with him there. Not with their extremely shapely legs, teeny-tiny waists and massive… talents. They looked as if they had just gotten done scrubbing down the Playboy Mansion. Somehow, Sarah did not think that was what Jareth meant.

"I thought you said you just had an _alliance_ with her!" Sarah shouted, wondering just how far this hallway ran.

Jareth's steps faltered slightly and he almost fell but managed to catch himself. "We… did."

"I had rather assumed you meant a _political_ alliance, not a _romantic_ one!"

He did not answer for a good ten paces. At last, he said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, of course _Gobbers_," Sarah said, putting as much sarcasm into her near-breathless statement as possible. "I'm sure Winston Churchill was always making eyes at FDR, too."

Before Jareth could reply, something smooth and wooden tangled itself in Sarah's legs and she went sprawling to the ground, nearly dragging him down with her. Feeling bruised and scraped all down the front of her body, Sarah looked up to see one of the Cleaners picking up the mop with which she had been tripped. Jareth, realizing that they would never outrun their enemies now, crouched warily over the girl, a crystal in hand.

The three Cleaners began circling them. The one with the mop spun it in front of her like a staff, the whistle of it's movement echoing down the long corridor. Another Cleaner carried two spray bottles, angled in her hands like pistols in the hands of a villain on a bad action movie. The third carried a sponge that occasionally dribbled a stream of liquid that sizzled and hissed as it hit the stone floor, leaving little pockmarks where it fell.

The Cleaner with the mop lunged and Jareth focused his attention on her. This proved to be a mistake as the one with the spray bottle darted forward and he took a face-full of whatever solution she carried. As both Cleaners simultaneously backed off, Jareth staggered and collapsed, half atop Sarah.

It had all happened so fast, Sarah had barely had time to react. "Jareth?" she cried, pulling herself out from under him. "Wake up!" His skin, normally just pale, was completely colorless.

"Don't worry," one of the Cleaners said, her perfect rosebud lips twisting into a smile. "It'll wear off in about ten minutes. Not before we clean his face right off of his head, though."

Sarah's hand whipped out to grab the crystal that had dropped from Jareth's fingers as he fell. Protectively, she pulled his head and shoulders into her lap and glowered at their attackers. "Leave us alone!" she shouted, hoping she sounded at least a little threatening.

The Cleaner with the spray bottles laughed, "Just leave him, little mortal. We'll deal with you later. But this one is _particularly_ unclean."

In response, Sarah threw the crystal at the Cleaner's head. To her surprise, it exploded in a flash as it struck the buxom woman's forehead and she staggered back, one of her bottles dropping from her hand. Unfortunately, she quickly recovered and this left Sarah weaponless. She could probably lunge for the fallen bottle before they got to her, but that would mean leaving Jareth.

She buried her hands in the thick, white material of his shirt and shook him. "Jareth," she gasped, "I can't do this by myself." All three Cleaners, as if on cue, took a step towards the pair, drawing in the circle. "You have to wake up," Sarah whimpered. "You have to help me." One more step and they were towering over her, staring down at her with blank eyes, wicked smirks on their red lips.

Sarah threw back her head and screamed, "_Help me_!!"

Her cry echoed down the corridor, reverberating off the walls. Jareth did not move. The Cleaners chuckled. The one she hit with the crystal, a slight bruise on her forehead, leaned down, holding her remaining bottle directly in front of Sarah's eyes. "Say good night, Princess."

Sarah closed her eyes and held her breath, unsure if that would help, and braced herself, trembling. Long seconds passed and the expected attack did not come. So tense was she that it took her a moment to realize that the trembling was not coming from her body alone. The very stones under her seemed to be rumbling. Certain that she was being duped; Sarah risked peeking open one eye.

The Cleaners still loomed over her, but their attention was elsewhere. They gazed frantically around, clearly trying to figure out why the hallway was shaking, more violently by the moment.

Suddenly, the roof above them lifted away. Sarah screamed and threw herself over Jareth, covering her head with her arms. Stray stones, the size of grapefruits, showered down around her, but she did not think any hit either of them. The Cleaners staggered back a few steps, hoisting their weapons uncertainly.

Sarah raised her head, her short hair filthy with dust and tiny stones. She glanced up at the mysterious hole in the ceiling in time to see a mammoth, blue, clawed hand reach through. She attempted to scream again, but choked on more dust in the air. She wanted to dart away, but couldn't abandon the still unconscious Goblin King.

The gigantic, tri-clawed hand fished around a bit and then, with surprising gentleness, scooped both Jareth and Sarah up and lifted them easily out of the corridor, leaving the baffled Cleaners behind.

Sarah was completely disoriented, the brightness of the sun blinding her and the dust of the ruined ceiling filling her nose and ears. She clung to Jareth, utterly incapable of comprehending what new horror had them in its clutches- literally.

When at last the dust cleared and Sarah's eyes adjusted, Sarah found herself perched on a rippling wave of blue scales, punctuated at lengths by spikes of wiry, blue hair, nearly as long as her leg, that stood straight up. Great wings spread out to either side of her, and a long neck, the blue scales interrupted only by a stretch of thick, red cloth, stretched to the front. They were, she realized with a jolt, on the back of a dragon.

And the dragon was flying high above the Maze. Sarah yelped, wrapping one arm around a thick tuft of hair and getting a better hold on Jareth with the other.

Uncertain what to do, she called, "You… What are you doing with us?"

"Well y'asked for help, didn' ya?" the dragon replied, without looking at her. Its voice was surprisingly light, though a little raspy.

"Oh…" she said, feeling wholly lost. "Thank you."

The dragon's body rippled, causing Sarah to clutch tighter to the hairy tuft. It took her a moment to realize that it was chuckling. "My pleasure. Always willin' to lend a hand."

Something tickled Sarah's memory and, hesitantly, she asked, "Do I know you?"

It chuckled again, nearly dislodging Jareth. Sarah frantically heaved him back into her lap. "I should hope so," the dragon replied, "We only met last week!"

Sarah gasped, "You're… You're…"

"Tha's right." The dragon turned his head to look at her and Sarah immediately recognized those large, round eyes, even in a completely different face. It gave her a wink.

"But you said you were just a worm!" she exclaimed.

"Nah, I said I was just a _wyrm_. But tha's close enough."

xXx

Author's Note:

See now, this is the scheme. As soon as you're _completely_ convinced that we're dead and that this story will _never_ get finished, that's when we update. See, if you had less faith in us, you'd get more chapters. This is all your fault, in the end.

On a different note, we still do not own Wizard of Oz, nor do we own Olivia Newton-John. Or Shakira, who wasn't mentioned in this story but who Queen Janill sounds _exactly_ like, for some reason I cannot fathom.

Marti's turn. Go bug her.

-Danika

PS- The title is from _Killer Queen_, by Queen, which, incidentally, we also do not own.


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